Warning: Reference to agent West's background as implied in the show's audio commentary, hints at het and slash relationships, crude language, etc.
Dedication: To Kirra kills as part of the gentleman's agreement to pay more attention to headcanons and the extended Flash family.

-:-
Where is fancy bread, in the heart or in the head?
-Willy Wonka.

Agent Bennett of the NSA had been around chasing fugitives for as long as most of the high division in his sector of the government could remember. He had brought in hundreds of people that had escaped on their way to the hands of justice. His collars had included international terrorists, white bigots that sported the markings of Hitler's ideals, men who had raped so many women and children that it took quite the effort when he arrested them not to bash their heads in against a brick wall; there were women he'd taken in that were some of the very rare sociopaths that actually molested and killed children without remorse; he'd been shot at and injured so often that he barely flinched at the sounds any sort of gun made and was nominated one of the best training instructors on field five years in a row.

He also was very good at noticing important things quite quickly when it came to people under his command.

Counting backwards, he knows what is important from when he wakes up in the morning looking for his pants and a burning hot cup of coffee to when he falls asleep an hour after the midnight bells in every city chime with new orders from Division Control and new aches and pains from chasing his new assignment "the Zeta capture" that wasn't so new after a little over a year.

5. West cannot shoot a gun worth a damn.

Well, that's not really his fault, from what Bennett had found out about the kid's family having been attached to law enforcement but being fairly ill-tempered about West having a firing weapon of any sort. If Bennett had so many people hissing slander about the high probability of something going wrong just because the ginger had a piece strapped to his hip, the older man would be a bumbling wreck, too.

It's not like Bennett doesn't keep that sidearm out of West's grip sixty percent of the time, anyway. So that's not too much of a problem as it was in the very beginning.

4. Lee uses her emotions as a tool.

Bennett rubbed the back of the young woman's shoulder gentle and precise. Her form was shaking and she had thrown up so much of what little she had eaten that day that he had little doubt that she would have throat trouble the next morning (oh, wait, the clock was already reading four into the next day—so afternoon,) but all things considered, since she had gotten a confession out of that child rapist/killer they had brought in, Bennett wasn't going to say anything about boundaries and getting used to such things.

Instead, he sat down on the other side of the work desk Lee used a lot since leaving his personal team and tried to bring up anything that would take her mind off of the images wandering around in her head that was the figure of the six year old little boy she had brought justice for; barely sixty pounds, her hands prying open the floorboards of a cabin in the woods of Oregon she had found on a hunch, the smell of flesh rotting the most likely cause of her having eaten very little in the last seven days.

3. Rush cannot bring herself to break any rules unless she absolutely has to.

"This is a waste of my time, Rush," Bennett frowned, looking down at the reports of incidents in the department that a trained eye and even a pathetic rookie would know were not worth the effort of writing up on twenty tickets and requesting a meeting with him.

"But sir, policy clearly dictates—"

"Policy is important for situations that have no other options but the written rule and for times when sticking close to the bottom line will keep all of us from getting our collective asses in a sling for screwing up paperwork that could lead to a perp walking because of sloppiness," the senior agent interrupted, taking the reports Rush had given him on improper use of office equipment, damage to vehicles from chasing Zeta and incidents involving Agent West in various positions of poor light and enjoying the sound the papers made when his shredder gobbled them up and spat them into the trash, "I do not want to have to repeat this. I have enough to go over without this to add to my troubles. If you have a problem with these things again, fix them yourself if it's to your ability or we can speak and I'll listen to your verbal explanations. No more paperwork."

2. It is best to keep non-lethal weapons in the hands of his agents.

Zeta could not be caught with weapons that could wound flesh, exactly, but situations arouse that lead to three of his agents becoming injured at various capacities (a bullet got caught in the chamber of Lee's gun and it exploded in her hands, leaving powder entrenched into her skin for over a month; an electric net launcher misfired before Rush could aim it properly at Zeta and the kick-back caused deep bruising along her right shoulder; a sonic pulse from their ship generator caused some weapons West had been locking up to spontaneously go off and he'd had to go to the ER for over a week because of puncture and burn wounds Bennett had plenty of trouble reporting to division without giving them the impression that West should be relieved of duty) that lead to them having to bring in completely newly developed weapons that would only subdue the synthoid and not lead to agent or civilian injury.

Bennett really didn't mind keeping such things out of his agents' hands.

1. He is responsible if anyone on his team is injured or killed.

Serving in the NSA, he has been blessed never to train someone or work with someone that had died on his watch, but he dreads the day that something goes out of control (Lee had barely gotten out with her life when that sociopath Krick used her as bait and blackmail to take Zeta into the NSA for the bounty on the synthoid's head and Bennett had been tempted to smash the bastard's head into the brick wall of the emergency room the man had been locked in on account of that explosion Krick had gotten himself into; Rush might be completely by the book, but that doesn't keep her from shooting her mouth off in situations with armed killers that lead to them, more often than need, taking pot-shots at her head; West is a walking disaster not only to surrounding people and objects but especially to himself) and that situation ends badly.

1. West replaces his feelings and personal skill set with food. This can make him both a forgivable sinner and an unrepentant bastard depending on what happens with whatever food he has in or out of his possession.

Somehow, Bennett doubted that this would be the most interesting thing he could have found out about the ginger on his team before or after capturing and then letting Zeta go (what a shock that was, finding out the robot was a pacifist and that Rosalie was right all along—he'd say that was a lot of wasted man hours in the old days, but after a time, he liked to think of it as a learning experience,) but it is the one that always comes up to bite him on the ass whenever he forgets about it.

For one thing, apparently, West comes from a family that are all just as skinny as he is (and accident prone, and attached to law enforcement and talkative and there is at least one redhead or ginger in every family photo that West carries around in his leather wallet and stares at forlornly or in severe anger depending on how his day went when he thinks nobody is looking at him) and apparently suffer from some genetic quirk wherein if they don't eat like mules, they become in-bound for some hospital time or keel ass over tea kettle and die. For another thing, this makes reading his mood half fun and half frustrating.

The fact that he is not a bad cook came as a shock; almost as much of a shock after Bennett found out the ginger had crashed a twelve-million dollar jet into a cemetery (the recollection of that particular event did not include the usual yelling and dark remarks about removal from duty, but West being nowhere to be seen and a place on his office desk fitted with a red and gold trim placemat, a tray of piping hot cinnamon rolls in a cluster with fresh icing wrapped along the raisins topping them off; steaming Arabica Bean coffee topped with chipped chocolate sprinkles and whole percent whipped cream; poached robin eggs with bacon cooked to perfection and Baked Alaska—Bennett's temper wore off after that meal and after he'd found West on the roof, he'd simply sentenced the ginger to desk duty for three weeks).

After Zeta was left to his own devices and the whole team was to be redistributed, Bennett kept his two rookies and had it worked out that Lee was to come back to his team after much apologizing and begging (he'd caught West making Oolong tea in a traditional Chinese teapot over the ship's stove that day and yet, West hadn't drank any himself and Bennett had a pretty good idea of what got Lee to say yes, even though she disliked Rush) on his end. Two days later, they'd all enjoyed West's cooking of slider burgers rich with extra toppings and held in carriers with a side each of crisp French fries and individual drinks of chocolate malt that was especially made from a recipe West had memorized from old family secrets.

Working on cases without searching for on the run robots brought to light more things about his three favorite rookies, but it wasn't all a garden of roses and bowl of cherries. Sometimes it was a bed of thorns and cold floor of broken glass.

(All of the food from the office fridge was gone—Bennett went looking and found West totally wiped out in the shower room, blood still clinging to him after a perp had held him hostage in a slaughterhouse and being shot in the head when Lee wasn't willing to let the target cut off the ginger's ear. Wrappers and crumbs and stains were cleaned up by the older man and then he left West to himself so he could go and call in take-out to restock the fridge.)

"Agent West, in my office—now."

The ginger cringed from his place at his desk, doing paperwork like he had for the last twelve hours in hopes to find clues they'd all overlooked while on the trail of a double-murderer who'd skipped town after he's made bail in Metropolis.

Being summoned to Bennett's office, he supposed, was better than going blind reading over the reports about a victim that had been shot twice in the head and been left in the remains of a shattered fish tank, thirteen Amazonian fish flopping in their blood and skewering themselves on pieces of broken glass around the body until a letter currier for the victim's law firm wandered onto the scene and called in the cops. He was actually glad to suffer verbal barbs as long as he didn't have to do that anymore.

Walking past a few other offices (one room in particular the one he's left green tea in for Lee and Rush when they came back from interviewing a bookie that was formerly an associate to their target) cleared West's head of the words in print, and before he knew it he was at the main man's door and knocking without thinking about it.

"Enter."

The door squeaked much like the door in Bennett's old office, which was quiet comfort in familiarity and West went in, finding Bennett putting on his jacket and pressing out the formed wrinkles in the fabric; his weathered hands with muscle lining from the tips of his fingers and all the way up to West couldn't see under the elder's jacket doing well in Bennett's endeavor to look more presentable.

"Sir?"

"We're going to get a late lunch," Bennett stated, grabbing at West's shoulder and flicking off the light switch in his office with finality, "The girls won't be back until midnight so now is as good a time as any."

West blinked and made to ask a question, but Bennett silenced him by handing West a pamphlet of where they were going. Burger World, coupons included for half price off of any five piece meal. Considering West ate that much in fifteen minutes, the coupons were more than welcome.

"Yes, sir," West grinned, not noticing Bennett looking rather pleased at his reaction to the promise of a big meal.